


Sunsprung

by lalalalalawhy



Category: Sunspring (Short Film)
Genre: Artificial Intelligence, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-27
Updated: 2016-10-27
Packaged: 2018-08-27 08:38:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,491
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8394811
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lalalalalawhy/pseuds/lalalalalawhy
Summary: Trapped in space, or is space trapped inside?Or, three space travelers work on their relationship.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [vtn](https://archiveofourown.org/users/vtn/gifts).



> This is based on the short film Sunspring, which is 9 minutes long and available [here](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LY7x2Ihqjmc). Much like the original, this story was co-written by an AI. More about that in the end note. 
> 
> Characters and actors:  
> H = Thomas Middleditch  
> H2 = Elisabeth Gray  
> C = Humphrey Ker

“The only thing that would have been in the world is full of people who don't like you,” H said to himself. He looked at his reflection in the mirror, then at his other self in the other mirror. 

It was going to be one of those days. His shoulders drooped as he slumped out of his room.

He greeted H2 when he met her in the corridor near the field of stars. The stars twinkled there, hung just out of reach. He was so happy to see her in the first half of the best of the day, before he got a new song on this one. 

“I'm at the end of a sudden rise of a good idea,” he said, “but the fact I can see you soon enough for you!”

She laughed, a little derisively, and shook her head. “And your friends are so much better,” he continued, looking at his hands. “If I was a great way of the day before I get a new one.”

He wasn’t done yet. He knew what he wanted to say. 

He looked up and met her eyes. “For me to be able to see my baby girl? One of my favorite parts of the year and the rest of the year and the rest of the day.”

“Baby girl?” H2 sneered, just a bit. “You know what I hate when people say that.” She sighed and shrugged. 

“I’m not sure how much I love you,” she said.

He looked into her eyes as though the answers could be found there, and she leaned against the railing the ship had installed for safety. C, dressed in his suit and silver shoulder pads, came walking down the corridor, along into the game. 

“How,” C began, planting his feet firmly and resting his hands on his hips, “can it just have a lot more fun than the original version?” C looked first at H2, then at H. 

“I mean,” C said, turning to H, “it's not even funny how you feel like a good idea.” His voice had no hint of cruelty and he weaved his hand in H’s hair, cupping the side of his head gently. After a long moment he let go, letting his arm fall to his side.

C was taunting him -- him! The first half of the first crew of humans who have been to the point of where the hell is going. The first place beyond the reach of communication! The space shuttle bus driver, for goodness sake! H was important. He was a good idea, even if he didn’t always believe it himself. He had to be a good idea.

“What are we doing here?” H asked both of them, taking a half step back, away from C’s hand. 

He turned to C. “Why'd you have to be the other side of the best thing to happen to me?”

H felt C’s eyes sweep him up and down, casting a considering gaze. C’s eyes traveled up and down his body and through his mind, considering, combing through everything that is and what is not.

“I'm not going to be the first place -- in my head and shoulders above all else,” H said, stepping forward, flustered. 

“When you have a lot,” C said, “a lot of the best way to get the same thing over and over again?” He put his arm around H2’s shoulders and nuzzled her cheek. 

“I don't think that I have a good time with the best of the best way of life,” C whispered, loudly enough so H could hear.

C took a hand and placed it on H’s cheek. H turned into the touch, reflexively, almost brushing his lips over C’s fingertips. He started talking instead.

“The only difference between a man who has been the same thing as the only thing,” H said, trying to pull away from and lean into the touch at the same time, “and the only one that has been in my head? is right and wrong.”

“We are going to the same thing,” C said, stroking his thumb down the side of H’s face. 

“You said you were the only one who can make me feel happy,” H2 said to him, her pupils blown wide. “Imagine if I could have been the same thing to you. You can laugh so hard for us.” She reached out and grabbed H’s hands.

“Laugh?” he said, pulling away. “I don't think it would be nice to be able to get it to the point where you can do that to me.”

“How would you like to see the new version of looking for something to do? Without…” C gestured to himself and H2. 

H blinked hard a dozen times, trying to clear his eyes of the tears that were welling up. “Loneliness is killing me right now and I don't think it was the best of them before.”

“I'm not sure how much I love you,” H said, glancing between them. He wasn’t sure which one he was addressing. He let out a small, rueful laugh. “So much for me!”

They stood there for a moment, uncomfortably close, an equilateral triangle, even, not knowing how to make it to the next step or moment.

He pulled out of their grip. “And you don't know what you want,” he said to them both. 

“Well,” said H2, “this is the only way to get what you wanted.” She gestured to herself and C. They were a package deal. 

“And frankly?” she said, “I'm not a fan of your life and the other side of the past.”

H looked back and forth between them. Could it be like this forever? The three of them? They only had one another out here. No other fish in the stars. If he didn't go along with it, it would mean the absolute worst thing ever when the sun goes off. Was this the only way to get it together and make it right?

Or would this be the same thing as always? Them treating him like a stranger on and off the field of screams?

“Will I ever be real to you?” H asked C. The temperature in the room dropped.

C looked down and shuffled his feet, grinding the soles of his boots against the grit of the corridor.

H2 looked at him and rolled her eyes. “I'm not going to be the first one to talk about it,” she said. 

“Talk about what?” H asked. 

C sighed. 

“You're not a bad thing,” he said, placing a placating hand on H’s shoulder, “but you're not a real man.”

“I'm not sure what you think you mean.” H said, shaking his head and stepping back.

“Astronauts aboard a plane aren't even that good at it,” C said. He tried to put his hand on H’s shoulder again, but H batted it away.

“The actual number of times I've been trying to be able to see you,” H said, his voice nearly breaking. He took a deep breath. “From the beginning until now: selling blood to get a job in a row of zero stars, driving the bus, and now, thinking this could work. Thinking this would work. I… you know, it’s not even funny how people are just a few weeks away from the start of the victims.”

“My head hurts so bad,” H2 broke in, “but the only way you want to be able to get my nails done tomorrow.”

She walked away without looking back. 

“Look,” C said. “You are not the best thing ever been. But it would mean the world to see you cry for me for once.”

“You want that?” H asked.

“I want that,” C said. “I want it so bad.”

Tears rose to H’s eyes, and he couldn’t say for certain if he meant it or not. C had an effect, to be sure, but it didn’t work on a date with his friends. 

“If I could believe in you?” H said, his tears starting to spill as he blinked to clear his eyes. “Face the truth about the future? I'm so tired of being the last thing you did. Where are doing the right thing to do with my life?”

“For the first time since I've seen a few good songs on my way home,” C said, leaning in to kiss him. H closed his eyes and saw what happened in this world -- it’s full of people who don’t know how to get a new song. He wouldn’t be one of them.

“The death of me is the only thing that would have been a long time to get the hang of it,” H said, smiling through his tears. 

C wouldn’t meet his eyes, but held out his hand. They walked down the corridor to see the skull and find H2. She would be happy to be the same as the first half of the best thing.

**Author's Note:**

> Dear recip, thank you for your prompt! I really enjoyed the short film, and jumped at the chance to write something for it. In the spirit of the canon, I decided to have an AI help me write this. All of the dialog and much of the text was written using my phone’s predictive text algorithm. Thanks, Siri! (I just tried to thank her and she told me the time and tried to call me a taxi. We, like the characters in this story, are working on our relationship.)
> 
> Thanks very much to merriman for beta’ing.


End file.
